For example, a few weeks ago Rob, Olivia, and I went on vacation to California with my family, and we flew. I was talking to my mom about getting to the airport. Here's how the conversation went down:
Me: What time are you guys coming to pick us up if the flight leaves at 8?
Mom: Your dad and I thought we'd leave our house at about 6:30
Me: Well, I think it should be more like 6, since we have all Olivia's things, we've never flown with her before, it'll be holiday traffic, etc.
Mom: I think we should be fine at 6:30, your dad has express check-in, and we can help you with all the things for Olivia.
Me: But everything takes longer with her. We should really actually get to the airport by 6. And what if you guys are running late? Then you wouldn't even get here until like 6:40.
Mom: Your dad does this all the time, I'm sure 6:30 will be fine. But I can talk to him if you like.
Me: We'll just get ourselves to the airport.
Ahem. Insert foot in mouth when my parents beat us to the airport later that week. Why did 30 minutes matter so much to me? It didn't. It was that I wanted things to go my way. And that is just one instance where fighting something minute did me no favors, and just amped up my anxiety - like I really need to be more anxious about anything!
While on said vacation, I was up in the middle of the night, feeding Olivia, and praying. My prayers are more like conversations with God: "Hey buddy, thanks for this beautiful baby. She's pretty awesome. But I guess you knew that, huh?" You get the gist of it. While I was musing to God about this and that, a word popped into my head. I like to think it was God talking to me, but I was taken by surprise by the word. It was enlightening and frustrating at the same time, like I was being called out by God:
Surrender.
That's my 9-letter "S" Word. I rarely say it, let alone think about it. And practice it? Well... See the above conversation. But it was a two fold lesson. First, I need to do it more. I need to learn to surrender to the process. To God's plan. And second, that I actually have been doing some surrendering lately, and it's paid off for me.
When I say I need to surrender more often, I don't mean that I think I'm meant to roll over and become a doormat. There is a difference between intentional surrender and giving up. I believe I am who I am because I'm meant to be strong-willed. But I need to learn when not to be stubborn. When to give in to the ebb and flow of life. How to let go of the minutiae and embrace the journey so I can be in the moment and enjoy life a little more. I need to give myself permission to relax - something that might make people who know me laugh, because you all know how high-strung I can get, and it's hard to work myself down.
Surrender. Such a powerful word for me right now.
Upon reflection, I realized I have been slowly embracing the act of surrender, and much of that centers around my baby. After all, babies don't care if you have a plan for the day, or want to sleep in, or try on one more pair of shoes. They just want to be fed, and changed, and rocked, and loved.
My first surrender came at her birth. 2 hours into what ended up being a very fast labor, I was in agonizing pain. I had wanted to wait for the epidural, because I wanted the freedom to walk around. The doctor said, "Let's just have the anesthesiologist come up and have a chat." By the time he got there, I surrendered. I believe I said, "I know you have to explain all of this to me, but the answer is yes, just do it. Please. Now." As soon as he did, I relaxed, and Olivia's delivery went quickly but smoothly.
When she came home, I wanted to do so many things with her - go to the pumpkin patch, help my family in the yard, go to our friends' tailgate parties. I didn't always nap when she slept because I wanted to be a part of the adult world again so badly. But I was so tired. I pushed myself to the edge of exhaustion and became so weary that all I did was cry and snap at people and cry some more. And Olivia had a hard time too. I surrendered. I focused on just staying home and learning about my baby. She stopped crying so much. My body calmed down. I took a deep breath. Life seemed better.
At about 5 weeks, I was desperate for sleep. I researched sleep training and "no tears" methods for getting babies to sleep. I stayed awake a precious few minutes after she went to sleep reading about how to get her to stay that way. I tried setting a sleep schedule. She hated it. I hated it. We both cried all the time. My poor husband had two exhausted, screaming women on his hands and he handled it so well. I went to the doctor and sobbed my eyes out at my 6 week appointment and hers. Both doctors listened and reassured me, and both said the same basic thing: "Surrender." Neither actually said the word, but my doctor told me to slow down and stop reading - just trust my own instincts. "You really can't do it wrong if you're feeding her and keeping her clean and loving her." Oh, yeah. That. I can do that. Her doctor said I could try whatever I wanted, but that honestly mommies just need to "hang in there" for the first 3 months. Oh. I can hang in there, I guess.
And I did. I just let go. I surrendered to Olivia's schedule, whatever that was. I took things one day at a time. And I survived. I even began to feel like I was getting the hang of things. Some days, we never left the house. Other days, we ran errands or went to play group. She got older and started sleeping longer stretches. I napped when I could. I showered - daily! I even put on makeup some days. That was a Big Deal.
Surrender.
It's so hard. It's still hard. Sometimes I yearn so badly for "my old life," but every day it gets harder to remember what that was like without her. I am so happy with her. Yes, it is possible to be sleep-deprived and happy at the same time. I'm still exhausted. I'm still unsure of myself. I still find myself getting trapped in cycles of self-doubt, and obsessing over minutiae. I couldn't enjoy Christmas Eve dinner because I thought Olivia needed to get home and go to bed or we'd go back to sleepless nights because her routine - the one I'd worked so hard to surrender to - was getting turned on its head. Do you know what she did? She went right back into her pattern the next day. I can't do that night over again. But I can learn from it. Surrendering to life, to fun, to participating in "my old life" activities is OK. She will live. So will I.
Tonight, as I put my sweet daughter to bed, I cried. This is my last week at home with her before returning to work. Next Monday marks the end of the longest consecutive time I will likely ever have with my daughter for the rest of our lives. Summer breaks are 10 weeks. I've had 14 with her because of Winter Break. When I go back to work, I will be missing her all day long. She might roll over for the first time without me. She might sit up by herself for the first time without me. I might miss her first real laugh. Now I know how my husband felt when he went back to work when she was just 3 weeks old. He will continue to work, part time, in the evenings. That will be hard for him, too.
I'm trying really hard to surrender to this process too. Even though it was my idea, and my husband and I both have to continue to work in order to make ends meet, it is hard. I find myself clinging to every moment with her. I don't want other people to hold her right now. I just want to hold her little hands and stroke her little head, and kiss her cheeks and rock her to sleep forever. When she did fall asleep tonight, I almost didn't put her into her crib. I thought about just holding her all night.
Don't get me wrong, I love teaching and I do miss my students and I miss doing what I believe is a calling, not just a job. I just wish I could split time so I could do both. I know that if I surrender to the process, I can make it a little easier on myself. The first days will be so hard, I will probably cry at work, I'll forget something for pumping or wear mismatched shoes, or only shave one leg. But for now, I'm just going to let myself fight it. I am going to live in each moment with my baby girl, hug her and cling to her and cherish these last few days, so that when I go back to work I can focus in, finish the year strong, and look forward to summer, when I get to be with her again.
Amen.
